The Betrayal Series
by Yami no Ryu
Summary: Daniel comes home early after a mission, and his world crumbles. Slash JD ::FINISHED:: Alternate Ending added.
1. Prologue: Can't, Doesn't

Prompt (070) Denial for livejournal community slash100  
Sam, Jack, Daniel

* * *

I've been watching them for a while. Daniel's my friend and sounding board, and the time we spend working together on a project almost outweighs the time we spend apart. Jack's my commanding officer, and by his decree we have team nights and team bonding. I've noticed two things: when Daniel's not working, he's with Jack; and when Jack's bored, he goes to Daniel first.

I don't remember when I started questioning their relationship. Maybe it was that Nem fiasco. We all thought Daniel had died. Jack almost retired. He broke the General's car window. But they were just friends. Right?

Maybe it was just after we blew up Apophis' and Klorel's ships. They spent almost all their free time together. Jack rarely let Daniel out of his sight, and you didn't have one without the other. They were like peanut butter and jelly for almost a week. But then, me and Teal'c were usually around, and it was all four of us. And, really, none of us took our eyes off of Daniel for long. Going through a life-or-death situation and coming out on the life side usually has that effect.

And then smaller things would catch my attention. Pats to the back, friendly punches to the arm. They were always comfortable with each other. Friendship things.

They _have_ to be friendship things.

Yesterday was the whole za'tarc thing. Jack told the za'tarc detector that he cares about me. He cares more than he's "supposed to". The machine would have caught him if he was lying. But he was telling the truth.

He doesn't care about Daniel like that.

In a couple days, Daniel is going on a solo mission for about a week. Jack and Teal'c weren't happy about it; they wouldn't be there to protect him should something go wrong, but Hammond says they need his expertise. I'll try then. After all, what nobody knows can't hurt them—or us.


	2. To Ashes

Prompt (077) Betrayal  
Daniel, Jack, Sam  
A/N: This is for DarkJediQueen on ffn, who must be my most consistent reviewer besides my RL friends. Thanks so much!

* * *

Daniel pulled up to the house, turning off the engine and rubbing his eyes. Difficult mission. Failed mission. And though he knew others would argue, it was all his fault.

The natives of P4X-399 were a war-like people, but they had a medicine--a miracle drug in every sense--that made illness unheard of. Of course, the SGC wanted that drug. Of course, he was called in to do the negotiations, disrupting his little free time with Jack. Of course, things went to hell in a handbasket.

During the negotiations everything went perfectly, but during a break one of the airmen accidentally mortally insulted the lead negotiator for the natives. They had to get out of there before the natives killed them. And so they didn't get their miracle drug, and he was home two days before he was scheduled to be. If only he'd been able to keep that airman in line...

Right then, all he wanted was a warm shower and bed. He pulled the key out of the ignition, crossing the short distance to the front door and automatically looking for the key to unlock it. But when he tried, it was already unlocked. Eyebrows furrowed--none of the front lights were on, which meant Jack was in the bedroom, and the door should be locked--he entered the house.

The house was dark. It was early, but it was possible Jack had already gone to sleep. After all, Jack wasn't expecting him to be home yet.

Daniel turned on the hall light, threw his jacket onto the couch and then wearily made his way to the bedroom. He opened the bedroom door, looked over at the bed to confirm Jack's whereabouts, and froze.

The hall light illuminated the bedroom enough for Daniel to see, and what he saw made him nauseous. Jack was in bed, asleep or dozing, in his usual position. Next to him was someone he'd never even considered as a rival--Sam. Samantha Carter. Daniel then noticed the clothes, hers and his, that lay discarded on the floor. The mussed, tangled sheets betrayed what they'd been doing.

Daniel felt like he was suffocating. Jack had assured him, over and over again, that he would never--not with Sam. That it was only Daniel, only ever Daniel, nobody else. He felt his knees buckle and he landed heavily on the floor, eyes still fixed on Jack and Sam.

How could Jack? How could Jack betray him like this? Did Jack think he'd never find out? And how many times--how many times had he cheated on Daniel? How many times had he wispered in Daniel's ear that there was only him while fucking who knows who else on the side?

And how could Sam? He thought they were friends, good friends. How could his judgement have lapsed so?

"Daniel?"

Jack's groggy voice brought him out of his reverie. Obviously the hall light had woken him. Daniel stood, not in the mood to hear Jack's excuses.

No wonder Jack had always insisted he keep his apartment.

Daniel stumbled down the hall, ignoring Jack's more frenzied attempts to call him back. When he reached the door, Jack caught his arm.

"Daniel, please, it's--it's not what it looks like!" Jack said desperately. Daniel didn't look at him.

"Really? What is it then? Because it looks like you fucked Sam," he said, monotone. He was too shocked still to be angry, though he felt the anger simmering just underneath the surface. He had to leave before he hurt somebody. He would never forgive himself if that happened.

"Daniel, please," Jack said, as Daniel opened the front door. "I l--"

"You love me?" Daniel asked, incredulity sharpening his voice to a hiss. "Yes, because you always break the hearts of the people you love."

"Would you just let me explain?" Jack demanded.

"You can try," Daniel allowed.

Jack opened his mouth, and then closed it. He looked at the ground. Just as Daniel thought, there was nothing to say. "Don't go."

"Sam will probably be up soon. You'll want to see to her," Daniel replied, and took a step and shut the door behind him. Still carried by shock and the unreality of the situation, he got back into his car. Next thing he knew he was at his apartment, staring at the numbers blankly, the key in his hand. He didn't remember driving there, or walking up the stairs. His hand inserted the key into the lock, and his body entered the apartment, but he didn't feel like it was him. This was all happening to someone else--some other Daniel. He was just watching it happen.

He collapsed onto the sofa, the keys dropping from his hand. He and Jack had sex on this sofa…

Then the anger erupted, snapping him back to reality. He practically jumped from the couch, and without thinking, grabbed a handful of the backrest. Then he heaved, and tore a piece out. Then another. Once the couch was reduced to ribbons and a wooden frame, he moved on to the kitchen. He threw open the cabinets, searching through them. Jack's second-favorite mug: he hurled it at the wall and it shattered. The deep dish Jack used to present the main dish of a romantic dinner once: he smashed it against the sink. The chair Jack sat on when they ate here: he tore the backrest from it and kicked the seat and legs to splinters. Daniel stormed into the bedroom, over to the closet. He shredded all of the clothes Jack had left, and all of his clothes that Jack said looked good on him, and all the clothes that reminded him of Jack. He stripped the bed of the nice blue sheets Jack said matched his eyes.

And when there was nothing left to rip or tear or break, he collapsed onto the bed mattress and didn't even bother to stop the silent tears that slipped down his cheeks as he stared at the ceiling.


	3. The Mistakes We Make

Prompt (052) Angst  
Jack, Sam, Daniel

* * *

Jack didn't spend much time looking at the closed door; he ignored the pit in his stomach and waited for the anger to kick in and make it better. It didn't take long.

He stomped down the hallway to his room, flipping on the bedroom light. The harsh electrical brilliance did nothing to damper his anger, only inflaming it. He kicked his pants aside to find Carter's bra.

"Jack?"

Carter's voice, thick with sleep, barely interrupted him. He threw her bra at her, and continued sorting through the clothes on the floor for hers. Her shirt, pants, underwear, one sock, other sock. He tossed them at her.

"What--?" Her voice was laced with confusion, and he could picture her face even if he didn't look at her.

"Get dressed," he growled.

"Jack?" she asked again, hesitant.

"_Get dressed_," he repeated, his voice brooking no argument. He heard the sheets rustle as she did what she was told. Good little soldier girl. Jack stalked out of the room.

Jack couldn't remember exactly how they'd ended up stumbling down the hall to his bedroom, only that it involved alcohol, Carter in a white lacy top with a black bra, and the need to forget that the Pentagon was threatening to cut their budget again. Nobody was supposed to find out. Especially not Daniel, who was his life, his love. Nothing he'd ever felt for anyone rivaled what he felt for Daniel.

And now, he'd screwed that up. Because he'd had too much to drink and Carter had been flirting with him and worn a sexy shirt.

Carter entered the kitchen, where he was pulling out the hard liquor from the top cabinet. Her hair was disheveled, her previously-pristine clothes wrinkled from laying on the floor. He finally looked her in the eyes and saw confusion and, deeper, hurt. But her eyes were the wrong shade of blue, and he didn't care.

"Ja—sir?"

"Get out," he said, fumbling for a shot glass. He poured a shot of scotch and downed it. As he lowered the glass, he noticed the words "The pen is mightier than the sword", and the picture of a fountain pen and a broken sword. Daniel had gotten it for him one birthday.

Anger left just as suddenly as he had arrived.

"Sir, are you—"

"Please, Carter, just leave," he said brokenly, staring at the shot glass. She hesitated for a moment, then silently took her leave.

Jack finished the rest of the scotch glassless.


	4. The Morning After

Prompt (006) Hours.  
Jack, Daniel, Hammond

* * *

Jack had a pounding headache and was feeling slightly nauseous, symptoms of a lingering hangover, which was why he was hiding in his office with only his desk lamp on. How he'd made it to work he could only hazard a guess, and hoped he hadn't run any red lights or accidentally hit a pedestrian. But the hangover wasn't the only reason he was in his office.

He didn't want to run into Carter. He knew she'd have questions for him, questions he didn't know how to answer. And most of all, he didn't want to run into Daniel. What could he say after he ruined both of their lives?

He glanced at his standard-issue watch. 0600 hours—he heard Daniel's voice in his head say, defiantly and not a little childishly, "6 o'clock in the morning". Seven hours since Daniel had found Carter in his bed. It seemed like it had been longer.

He didn't have much time to sink into last night's depression and self-hatred before his office door was unceremoniously thrown open. He winced at the light, so much brighter than his desk lamp, and groaned when whoever had intruded on him flicked on the overhead lights.

When he felt his headache recede to manageable level and the nausea subside, he opened his eyes again. A very angry General George Hammond stood in front of his desk, stiff-backed and beady-eyed.

"General," he said weakly.

"Colonel. Do you want to tell me why Dr. Jackson just asked to be reassigned to another team?" Hammond asked icily. Jack had never heard him so enraged.

For a moment, Jack couldn't say anything. Daniel wanted to be reassigned? "Permanently?" he blurted out.

"Yes," Hammond said.

Then logic kicked in. Of course Daniel wouldn't want to work with him any more. Jack knew had it been the other way around—which it wouldn't have been—he would ask for the same. Daniel probably hated his guts; he knew he did.

That didn't stop it from hurting. Jack loved Daniel with all of his being, and it seemed like Daniel no longer wanted anything to do with him. Not that he didn't deserve it, of course, but…he'd hoped. He'd hoped he could say something, do something, and this would magically go away. Now he wouldn't even get the chance.

"We had a fight, sir," Jack answered finally.

"Then you better go apologize, Colonel. I can't have my best first-contact team dismantled because of a spat," George said, but his voice had barely softened.

"I don't know if an apology will cut it this time," Jack said heavily.

"You better find something that will," the General ordered, and then turned on his heel and walked out the door.


	5. Being Right

Prompt (063) Hurt for the slash100 community on livejournal  
Sam, Jack, Daniel

* * *

Sam sat in her office, but she wasn't working. She hadn't touched a pen, a computer, a machine since she entered the mountain. The world wass too unreal for something as mundane as work. 

Usually she a thousand thoughts run through her head: mathematical formulas, scientific problems, new discoveries, personal wonderings. Now the only thing circumnavigating her grey matter was, I was right.

Last night her dearest, darkest wish had been granted: she'd had sex with Jack. If she'd known all it would take was alcohol and her opaque white shirt she'd have done it ages ago, regulations be damned. And then her world had fallen apart.

Nothing had prepared her for Jack. She'd heard horror stories of "the morning after the night before", but they had only been stories. That morning they coalesced into one thing: Jack. The shattered look on his face would haunt her forever. A few minutes ago she found out what had changed him from passionate and commanding to completely destroyed.

The General had called and asked if she knew why Dr. Jackson was requesting a transfer to another team.

Things fell into place like puzzle pieces, and for a few wonderful moments she was filled with the euphoria that comes after answering a mystifying question. Jack was in love with Daniel, no other explanation.

And then she'd crashed.

Jack was in love with Daniel. Which meant Daniel was in love with Jack. Jack and Daniel were in love with each other. Daniel had seen her in Jack's bed after what was unmistakably sex.

Jack and Daniel loved each other, and she'd ruined both of them.

She was right—Jack didn't care about her the way he cared about Daniel. And not for the first time, she hated being right.


	6. Second Chances

Rated MA-15 for talk of sex and language  
Prompt (094) Make-up  
Jack, Daniel

* * *

Jack stood in front of the door to Daniel's office. He didn't know how long he'd been staring at it. Long enough for the people who passed to be giving him odd looks. He figured that was enough time to be frozen like a coward. 

He took a deep breath and knocked. He received no answer, so he knocked again. "Daniel?"

His answer was a click. He tried the knob. Locked. He knocked a third time. "Daniel, please open the door."

No reply.

Frowning, Jack went back to his office. Daniel had never, ever locked Jack out of his office before. Jack picked up the phone and dialed the number for Daniel's office. After a few minutes of listening to the steady beep of a busy phone, he hung up. Daniel must have taken the phone off its cradle.

He didn't see either Carter or Daniel the rest of the day, but he was having trouble avoiding Teal'c and the one time he crossed paths with the General he was rewarded with a grim, unforgiving glare.

When he was leaving the mountain, he asked if Daniel had left yet. The airman said Daniel had signed out almost an hour ago.

Worry and apprehension and guilt swam in his stomach as he drove to Daniel's apartment. He could only hope Daniel was home—and hope, somehow, that he could convince Daniel to give him a second chance. He didn't know how he would survive if Daniel refused to listen to him, and the younger man had every right to.

The elevator wasn't working again, so he took the stairs. The trek seemed to take longer than usual, giving his whirling mind a chance to reveal every morbid possibility and show them to him. Every step upwards convinced him that much more that no matter what he said or did, he'd lost Daniel forever.

Finally, after what seemed like eternity, he reached Daniel's floor. Then he was standing in front of Daniel's door. 8-3. Floor eight apartment three. Slowly, he knocked.

"C'min'!" shouted a slurred voice, and Jack heard curses and several thumps before Daniel dragged the door open. His hair was messed up and his clothes disheveled. He blinked at Jack before anger clouded his features and he tried to slam the door. Jack caught it and easily forced it back open. He stepped into the apartment. Daniel stumbled away from him, caught himself on the wall, and then staggered down the hall to the living room. Jack followed him.

He stopped before he got into the room. The couch was completely gutted, pieces of stuffing and cloth scattered among a couple bottles. They'd had sex on that couch.

Daniel collapsed onto the chair across from it, taking a drink from the bottle he was holding. He was staring at the floor.

"Daniel…"

"Go 'way," Daniel said sullenly. "Don' like you."

"Can I talk?" Jack asked, descending into the living room and stopping in front of Daniel.

"Talk?" Daniel repeated, staring at him. Then he laughed. It was bitter and ugly. "Jack wants t'talk! I don' want Jack t'talk. I want Jack t'leave."

"Please, just—"

"Y'got no right, _no right_, t'beg, C'r'nel," Daniel snapped, drinking the last bit of the liquor in the bottle. He stood, pushed past Jack, and wove into his kitchen. Jack followed, feeling helpless. He had to stop again at the sight of the kitchen. Pieces of glass and ceramic and wood littered the floor.

"What happened?" he whispered.

Daniel was reaching back into his liquor cabinet. He snagged another bottle, and he stopped in front of Jack. "Tha' was your chair, an' tha' was your mug, an' tha' was th' dish y'used t'make dinner."

He went back to the living room, and tripped over a bottle. Jack barely caught him. When Daniel was upright again, he shook off Jack. "Don' need you. Don' need you, n'v'r 'gain."

Jack fiercely pushed back tears and tried again. "I made a mistake."

"Damn righ' y'did," Daniel slurred, frowning. "You bastard. Take m' heart and make me think y'love me an' then tear it out an' trample it an' chop it t'pieces f'r good measure."

"I didn't mean to," Jack said softly.

"Didn' mean t'love me an' then dump me?" Daniel asked darkly.

"With Carter—I didn't—"

"Shouldn' it be Sam? You slep' wi'her f'r God's sake!" Daniel yelled, viciously twisting the cap off of the bottle and swallowing. Jack watched his adam's apple bob before dragging himself back to the present.

"I know," Jack said. "But I could never think of her as 'Sam' and you know it."

"Do I?" Daniel asked quietly, looking at the bottle. "You slept with her, Jack." Daniel didn't sound so drunk any more. "You said it was only me. Were you lying when you said that too? How many—" Daniel swallowed, "How many times have you cheated on me?"

"Never, Daniel," Jack replied. "That was the first time."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Daniel asked, glancing at him before fixing his eyes on the bottle again. He took a drink. Jack bit his lip. "How do I even know I can believe you?"

Jack was a man of action. Words were not his strong suit. So he acted, and kissed Daniel. Daniel sat motionless, and then pushed him roughly away. His fingers clenched around the neck of the bottle, and for a split second Jack was frightened that Daniel was going to hit him with it. Instead Daniel stood, whirled, and hurled the bottle at the wall. It shattered in a cascade of hissing water and tinkling glass.

"You think a kiss can make it better?" Daniel seethed, shoulders shaking. He turned back to stare Jack in the eyes. "You think you can kiss me and suddenly I'll forget that you fucked Sam?"

"Daniel, you have to understand, I was drunk and she was practically throwing herself at me," Jack said desperately. He knew he'd said the wrong thing when rage flared in Daniel's eyes.

"So I'm just supposed to let you fuck me until the next pretty woman comes along and plies you with drink?" Daniel snarled.

"That's not what I meant," Jack replied, frustrated with his inability to say what he meant.

"Well, then, what did you mean?" Daniel demanded.

Jack didn't know what to say, because what he'd said was true. He'd been drunk, she had offered, and then they'd had sex. Daniel growled in disgust. He stomped to his room, still a little unsteady, and was about to slam the door when Jack stopped him.

"Please," Jack begged, "I love you."

Daniel wrenched his arm from Jack's grip and shut the door. Jack heard the lock click into place. Jack literally felt his heart splinter into a million tiny pieces. His forehead thumped against the door, and then he turned and slid down to the floor.

Then he did the only thing he could think of to do: he started talking. "Do you remember the first time we kissed? Of course you do. You were so pissed. You started yelling at me. How could I expect you to blow me up? Paul wouldn't order the ship to fire on me and Teal'c until you had given the go-ahead. You threw the wine glass at me, you remember? Full of wine. You put a picture over the stain later. Then you started yelling at me about how it was my fault that you'd have a big red stain on your wall. Then I don't even remember what you said, but I remember walking over to you, grabbing your shoulders and kissing you. And you were so shocked you didn't even kiss me back. I was so certain that I had ruined our friendship. By the time you reacted I was almost out the door. I remember how you grabbed me, and spun me around. I didn't think you were that strong; and then you kissed me and I was so happy…we made love that night, too. That—that, Daniel, was beautiful. You with dark eyes, laid out on my bed under me, moaning and begging in languages I can't even begin to name. Touching you, everywhere, I loved it. I loved how you reacted to me. You're so sensitive, Daniel. And the way you kissed me, all tongue and passion…" Jack leaned his head back against the door. "That was art and beauty; that was perfection. Everywhere everyone's looking for perfect, and there I had it, right under my hands. That day I realized I loved you and that night I showed you how much.

"Daniel, I…I screwed up monumentally. I can't even begin to describe. You know I'm not good with words, and I'm not asking for you to forgive me. I just want another chance. One more chance to love you. Because I do, so much.

"I love you, Daniel. Please, let me have one more chance," Jack finished. It wasn't until something wet soaked into his shirt that he realized he was crying.

There was silence in the apartment. Jack smiled bitterly. Of course, when he decided to pour out his heart, nobody would be listening. It had to be like that.

Then he heard the click of the lock.

Jack stood and turned, watching the bedroom door inch open. Daniel stood, lit by the living room lamp. His eyes were reddening, and there were tear tracks on his cheeks. He sniffled. Jack opened his arms, hoping against hope that Daniel would accept his apology. Daniel did. He lunged into Jack's arms, burying his face into the crook of Jack's neck, and began crying again. Jack wrapped Daniel in his arms, holding his shaking form, letting his own tears spill down his cheeks, and vowed he'd never hurt Daniel like this again.

They'd have a serious talk later. Right now, they just held each other.

Jack had a feeling they'd be okay.


	7. Rabbit Pulled

Prompt (097) Writer's Choice  
General Hammond, Daniel, Jack

* * *

It was surprisingly quiet around the base. No trouble offworld, no problems on the base. Everything was running smoothly. Except for one very important thing: his premier team. His shining example of the personnel of the SGC seemed like it was falling apart. He didn't know why, and he had a feeling he would never find out.

Daniel Jackson, possibly the most brilliant mind in the whole base, requested a reassignment. He had a gut feeling it had to do with Jack O'Neill, and the "don't ask, don't tell" policy. He rubbed his forehead with a sigh. He hoped that, whatever had happened, his second in command could pull one of his famed rabbits out of a hat and fix it.

The knock on his door startled him out of his reverie. "Come," he called. The door opened to reveal the tired form of Daniel Jackson. George motioned him into a chair, a frown in his eyes, and asked, "What can I do for you, son?"

"I'd like to withdraw my request for reassignment," the archeologist said. George almost sighed with relief, but managed to restrain himself.

Instead he inquired, "What made you change your mind?"

A hint of a smile quirked Daniel's lips. For a moment his eyes were far away, remembering something. Finally he answered, "Jack can be very eloquent when he puts his mind to it, General."

George couldn't help but quirk an eyebrow in disbelief. His 2IC was many things, blunt and direct among them, but eloquent he was not. Nevertheless, he did not prod. Daniel stood, nodded, and left.

Well. The General felt a smile spread across his face. Congratulations, Colonel. Rabbit pulled.


	8. Finale

Prompt (065) Healing  
Daniel, Sam

* * *

Daniel stood outside Sam's door. He didn't know if she was in. She didn't know if she knew why Jack had thrown her out. Nevertheless, he had to talk with her. They had a lot of things to work out—not the least of which her feelings toward Jack and toward him and Jack being together—before their next mission.

Taking a deep breath, unaware of how he was mirroring Jack's actions from the day before, Daniel knocked. Sam's 'come in' was soft and odd-sounding, almost choked. It wasn't the absent 'come' of when she was enmeshed in some scientific mystery or other, nor was it the desperate 'please come in' of when someone was bothering her and she welcomed any interruption. He had never heard this tone.

Hesitantly, Daniel entered, looking over the lab. As usually, multiple experiments were spread over various surfaces, and what they didn't take up was covered by devices in different stages of disrepair, sheaves of papers, and tools. Strangely, Sam was only tinkering with an object, as if she didn't want to work, but was making herself do so for the sake of doing something. She looked miserable. Daniel ventured quietly, "Sam?"

Her head snapped up, fingers fumbling with the device she had been examining before she stilled them, the first surprised "Daniel" slipping past her lips before she could reign it in. Then, much to his surprise, tears began to gather in the corner of her eyes. "Oh, Daniel, I'm so sorry!" Her head dropped, fingers interlacing themselves, pressing so hard together that her knuckles were white. She sniffed, closed her eyes tightly, and then apparently lost the battle. Sam dissolved into tears.

Daniel was dumbstruck, but even as his mind had hit the mental pause button, his body was already moving to wrap her in his arms, calming murmurs falling from his mouth without first asking his brain. He could barely make out her words as she latched onto his jacket, "I d-didn't know, o-or didn't w-want to s-see. B-but it was so ob-obvious; I j-just was so blind. I ruined ev-ev-everything. How can you b-bare to look at m-me?"

Daniel hadn't even considered that she might have put the pieces together and be sorry for her part. He had fully expected to find her secure in her knowledge that Jack had simply panicked, and that he would come back to his senses eventually. He had anticipated having to tell her straight out, maybe fight her denial. He realized he hadn't given Sam enough credit.

Part of Daniel, the part that hated her for this, hated her for seducing his Jack, softened in the wake of her tears. It takes two to tango, after all, and Jack was as much to blame for this mess as Sam was. Daniel let himself wonder how long it would be before he had the complete faith in Jack that he'd had jest two days before, and hoped it would be shorted than he thought. Then his attention returned to Sam, and her obvious distress at her part.

Once she had cried herself out, Daniel let her go. She sniffled and wiped her eyes before sitting straight in her seat. Daniel moved off, and she stiffened, taking the gesture for what it was: Daniel's way of saying that whatever closeness had been between them was in jeopardy, if not lost already. He bit his bottom lip, then asked, "Why?"

She didn't even bother evading. She licked her lips, then turned her eyes away as she replied, "I honestly thought he loved me."

"He does," Daniel replied.

"Not the way I wanted him to," Sam sighed, then looked earnestly up at him. "I wouldn't have done it if I had known, Daniel. I swear."

"I know."

Sam's hands clenched in her pants. "Do you?"

"Sam…"

"I love you Daniel, like I love my father and my brother. You're family," Sam explained. "I would never, ever do anything to hurt you. Not on purpose."

Daniel scrutinized her, before asking, "Would you do it again, if you had the chance?"

"No!" she blurted out, then quieter, "No. Not with what I know now. I didn't want to hurt anyone. If I'd let myself see what was in front of me, I would never have done it in the first place. Please, Daniel, please believe me."

Daniel did, despite himself. There was no way he couldn't. People made mistakes, some larger than others, some irreparable. He was relieved that this wasn't one of those mistakes. He loved Sam too: she was his intellectual twin and he admired her. Losing her would have hurt more than he wanted to admit.

"Do you hate me?" Sam asked softly, staring at the floor. "I…I wouldn't blame you if you do."

Daniel reached out and grabbed her hands, making her look up. "I don't hate you," he replied. "Everybody makes mistakes. We're just lucky yours wasn't irreparable." He smiled at her, and was relieved to receive a shy grin in return. He drew her into another embrace, and she buried her face in his shoulder.

"What did I do to deserve a friend like you?" the scientist asked, voice muffled.

"I'm nothing special," Daniel replied modestly. He felt more than heard her small laugh. They separated, and her eyes were bright. Daniel wondered if his were, too.

Then her grin changed from shy to conspiratorial, and she whispered mischievously, "Now, tell me everything."


	9. Alternate Ending: To Not Forgive

**NOTE that this takes place in the middle of "Second Chances" and then turns in a different direction.**

Note 2: I've had the vagues idea for this floating around in my head since before the series finished. I finally decided how to write it.

* * *

Then he did the only thing he could think of to do: he started talking. "Do you remember the first time we kissed? Of course you do. You were so pissed. You started yelling at me. How could I expect you to blow me up? Paul wouldn't order the ship to fire on me and Teal'c until you had given the go-ahead. You threw the wine glass at me, you remember? Full of wine. You put a picture over the stain later. Then you started yelling at me about how it was my fault that you'd have a big red stain on your wall. Then I don't even remember what you said, but I remember walking over to you, grabbing your shoulders and kissing you. And you were so shocked you didn't even kiss me back. I was so certain that I had ruined our friendship. By the time you reacted I was almost out the door. I remember how you grabbed me, and spun me around. I didn't think you were that strong; and then you kissed me and I was so happy…we made love that night, too. That—that, Daniel, was beautiful. You with dark eyes, laid out on your bed under me, moaning and begging in languages I can't even begin to name. Touching you, everywhere, I loved it. I loved how you reacted to me. You're so sensitive, Daniel. And the way you kissed me, all tongue and passion…" Jack leaned his head back against the door. "That was art and beauty; that was perfection. Everywhere everyone's looking for perfect, and there I had it, right under my hands. That day I realized I loved you and that night I showed you how much. 

"Daniel, I…I screwed up monumentally. I can't even begin to describe. You know I'm not good with words, and I'm not asking for you to forgive me. I just want another chance. One more chance to love you. Because I do, so much.

"I love you, Daniel. Please, let me have one more chance," Jack finished. It wasn't until something wet soaked into his shirt that he realized he was crying.

There was silence in the apartment. Jack smiled bitterly. Of course, when he decided to pour out his heart, nobody would be listening. It had to be like that.

Then he heard the click of the lock.

Jack stood and turned, watching the bedroom door inch open, hope growing in his chest. Daniel stood, lit by the living room lamp. His eyes were cold and broken, and he was so, so pale. Jack ached, a physical pain piercing through him at the knowledge that he had made Daniel like that. Jack felt another tear soak through his shirt.

Daniel's voice was hoarse as he whispered two words: "Go home."

The bedroom door closed with a loud, final click.

Jack heard a roaring in his ears, and found himself on hands and knees, tears falling thickly and soundlessly onto the carpet. He knew with a certainty he'd never felt before that he'd lost Daniel. Forever.


End file.
